If he would keep it down a notch, it would be great. I massaged my temples. The raised tone of his voice was like needles in my eardrums.
“Fine. What did I do?”
Scorpio pointed to the window behind his back. I cringed at the sight of my BMWparkedover the stone fence.
Should I explain that not only was the fence ruined but also Jane’s beloved flower bed? The car was trashed, too, in case you wondered.
“You came here at two in the morning, again. Shitfaced,again! You couldn’t fucking stand, mate, let alone drive. You sat there, with both hands on the steering wheel, looking into the distance like an idiot. I knocked on the window, but you didn’t even flinch. I dragged you in here, and then,” he gestured behind me, “you drank all that by yourself.”
An empty bottle of vodka stood on the countertop.
Bravo, asshat.
“I’m sorry about the fence and about turning up here in the middle of the night,again. Where are my phone and watch?”
“It’s almost noon,” Scorpio clipped, but the anger was gone from his voice. “You didn’t have your phone. Your watch is in the living room. You took it off when I hit you.”
My eyes widened. “You hit me?”
“I’m surprised your jaw doesn’t hurt,” he scoffed, offended by his own lack of skill. “You were out of bloody control, mate. You tried to smash my console, and no one, I repeat,no onegets to touch my console. I had to nail you.”
“I took my watch off to fight you… I guess it didn’t work out well for me.”
“You forgot about the fight before you took the watch off.” His features hardened, and he rested his elbows on the table. “You’ll get yourself killed, Thomas. This has to stop. You’ve been drunk for two weeks straight. Does it even help?”
A fresh wave of pain, far worse than any physical one, shredded my heart like one of the office document shredders.
“Nothing helps.” I rested my face in my hands, pulling at my hair, “Nothing takes the edge off. She’s all I think about. I bought more tickets to New York since she left than there are seats on the planes.”
From the pocket of my jeans, I took out the letter from Nadia and passed it to Scorpio.
I read it so many times—the words were etched into my brain like an idiotic poem a teacher made you memorise in primary school: interpret the words and write a fucking essay about what the author meant.
Nadia’s words weren’t a poem. There was no hidden meaning. She meant what she wrote. The thought killed me every time I recalled her words.
Thomas,
The road to heaven leads through hell.
I walked that road and found you at the end. Now I have to turn around and walk through hell again.
By the time you wake up, I’ll be halfway across the Atlantic—or so I hope. God knows I can’t look at the disappointment in your eyes. I think I’d die a little if you’d ask me to stay, because Ican’tstay no matter how much I want to be with you.
Adrian needs me more.
He’s broken and fragile, and I owe him more than you can imagine. Now I need to return the favour.
Don’t think leaving you was an easy decision. Don’t for one second wonder if I care. I do. I care so much it scares me, because it’s only been a few weeks, but you turned my world into a better place.
For that and a million other things—thank you.
I hope you see why I’m leaving. I hope you understand that if anything would happen to Adrian because I wasn’t around to help him, I would fall apart beyond repair.
Please don’t hate me. I don’t think I could handle that. Andpleasefind someone who’s worth your time and effort.
You’re quite a something, Thomas. You deserve so much more than I can offer. I hope you’ll find it soon.
Nadia.